


Freedom

by Fyeahvarric



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-30
Updated: 2012-09-30
Packaged: 2017-11-15 09:09:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/525631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fyeahvarric/pseuds/Fyeahvarric
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A very faintly smutty ficlet glimpsing in to Fenris' thoughts regarding his relationship with Isabela.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Freedom

**Author's Note:**

> The smut in this is nothing particularly graphic, but hints of naughty things are still afoot.
> 
> I really, really love this pairing and this is a ficlet I nearly forgot I even wrote, but I couldn't not share it here when I came back across it.

She moves over him slowly, with the glint of candle flames caught on the gold dangling from her ears, light dancing as her hips move. Her necklace is gone, cast aside to allow his lips free reign over her neck and her pace is careful, steady; like waves lapping against the hull of a ship tied to the docks.

If he sat up and drew her closer, could he smell the scent of salt in her dark hair? Would it be hidden amongst the other scents on her skin? So often she smells of smoke and the sun from days traversing the Wounded Coast and nights drinking at the Hanged Man.

He watches the movements and he knows that her eyes are on his face, smiling at him as her hips rock, content to let him enjoy the sight of them joined together as much as he does the feel of it. The concern is there, unspoken in the candle light and upon the bed, but he knows that her slow pace is for his benefit this time.

Freedom is still new to him and relinquishing control, allowing her the dominant position is a bit frightening when it seems he only recently cast the shackles of his old life completely away. He enjoys every breathless moment spent in her bed, clutching her thighs to his chest while moving over her, behind her, setting his own pace. He likes the way she mumbles his name and the touch of her lips on his skin. In her arms he can taste, kiss, touch without worry of reprimand or pain. He can follow the reactions of her body rather than the orders of a master. He can let her climb atop him and feel the familiar fear of being controlled fade way when he lifts his eyes to her face.

Her smile is there, just as he expected, and he feels the tension easing back, giving in to the pleasure as he remembers that he can trust her. She is no magister and she carries no shackles to bind him to her will. She is a pirate who mumbles his name when he nips her ear, not a master whispering “Little Wolf” while he is punished. She does not own him and he does not own her. Being with her is about friendship, enjoying the moment, and being able to do what they both want.

He sits upright, no longer passive and uneasy, moving with her as his cheek touches her neck.

With Isabela he can be himself instead of a possession.

With Isabela he is free.

Both of them are.


End file.
